


Angels & Demons

by Cullenski



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Pranks, ill advised uses of liquid nitrogen, seriously you guys this is the angstyest thing I've ever done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-09 06:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12882018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cullenski/pseuds/Cullenski
Summary: Angela's new girlfriend drives a wedge between them with her research, but can she save her and the team she works so hard to protect?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write this after thinking about how my favourite ship (PharaMercy) would fit with Moira being introduced to the game. The answer is through a whole lot of angst.

Dr Angela Zeigler was waiting patiently in the reception area of Overwatch’s Swiss mountain research facility. She was, although she wouldn’t admit it, a bit nervous about Overwatch Science & Medical Division’s latest recruit, come as she may with a full set of credentials. She had also heard other things, about her areas of expertise. All these things were laid to rest, however, as she watched the motorbike roar up the mountain pass. The roads up to the facility were tricky, and Angela herself had found them a challenge, especially in the snow, but the rider of the Ducati powering up the hill had no apparent trouble. Angela gripped her clipboard as the woman rode the monster in, removing her helmet to reveal a crop of spiky ginger hair. “Dr Zeigler, I presume?” she asked, with an Irish accent.  
“Yes, that’s me, and I assume you are Dr O’Deorain?”  
“Guilty as charged” Angela chuckled as they walked down the corridor. Moira cut a formidable figure in a leather jacket, dark jeans and a deep purple shirt. She drew glances from many of the staff as her and Dr Zeigler walked to her office.  
“I’ve read much of your work Dr Zeigler, nanomites? Why did you choose them? I know Dr Wakefield tried to make them work for 7 years.”  
“Dr Wakefield never believed anyone else” Angela replied, with a small smile, “and please, call me Angela. Everyone in this building does.”  
  
“I know of your research, Angela, but the….other duties?” They had arrived at the prep room. The valkyrie suit was on the wall, along with the staff and small pistol. Angela smiled as she checked the suit’s readings, confirming it ready for action.   
“Those? Overwatch needed a medic. I suited the task. I am not confined to my lab.” “It does look quite the hero part, doesn’t it? The wings, the staff. I’m surprised you didn’t go for Gabrielle”   
Angela blushed. “It was suggested” she replied, “but Mercy suits me better”   
“I take it this not compulsory for all your staff?” Moira asked, raising an eyebrow, “I’m afraid I don’t really suit the wings and innocence look.”   
“I can see that” replied Angela, giggling. Moira, in her leather jacket and with her spiky ginger hair, looked about as far from the biblical saviours as possible.  
"We can see about getting you in the field, although the vacancy was advertised for a research scientist."  
"Oh, I'm fairly flexible" replied Moira with a slightly suggestive smile. She didn't catch Angela blushing.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Angela whipped off her lab coat as she strode into her office. The new nanomites were proving hard to work with, and the oven in the lab wasn't working, and the health and safety auditor was being a total  _arschloch_ , and to top it off the phone system had started showing text in Dutch. She needed a cup of tea.  
She pulled the lid off of the tin, to discover bare metal. Damn.  
She took a look around the office. Most of the other medical staff were coffee drinkers, so there was no chance of borrowing anything from them. Unless....  
There was a tin marked Irish breakfast tea. This was placed next to a packet of ginger nuts, with a small skull and crossbones scrawled on with a board pen. Angela hadn't actually tried Irish breakfast tea, but the chances of finding Moroccan peppermint or Darjeeling on the shelves of the medical lab's kitchen, unofficial motto "caffeine is life", was looking rather slim. She snuck a spoon of the loose-leaf tea into her mug, made the tea, and went back to work.

Moira paced in, throwing off her lab coat and practically tearing off her safety glasses. There was a limit to her patience, and it had been found with the health and safety auditor asking if she knew the correct way to handle hydroflouric acid. She could rest assured, however, that he now knew many more gaelic curses than he did before. She took the lid off the tea, and stopped.  
The lid wasn't on properly.  
Someone had clearly not acknowledged the skull one the box, had helped themselves and, to add insult to injury, hadn't put the lid on properly. She smiled. Petty revenge was so easy in a science lab, and she still had the mini chromatography kit.

Angela dropped down in her chair, whipped open the desk drawer, and went for her banana. Her face frowned as she heard a crunch. She removed the fruit from the drawer to find it encased in a light frost. As she watched, it snapped in two. She looked up to see Moira - how did she get here? - leaning against the doorframe.  
"How did you find out?"  
"Four people in the lab drink tea, and the chromatography kit confirmed that you used my tea around 10.30."  
"Well played, but you owe me a banana."  
"Oh, I can make it up to you"  
Out came the smile, and this time there was no hiding the blushes. Angela would admit to herself that Moira was very attractive, especially in her biker jacket, but to her? In person?  
Moira saw Angela's face burn cherry red, and smiled to herself. For all her brilliance in the lab, Angela had an awful poker face.  
"I've been told there's an Irish bar in town, have you been there? I was wondering what I'd do in the evenings."  
"I think there is" Angela managed to say. This wasn't the time, not in the lab. Not the time to notice the fact that her hair perfectly suited her, or her fashions were ridiculously attractive, or her arms were toned to perfection, gosh she must work out....  
When she swirled back to reality, Moira had returned to the lab, but there was a piece of paper on the desk with 8:30 written on it. 

Angela swallowed nervously. She hadn't been truly out in ages, not properly, not to a bar, and certainly not on a date. She hadn't seen Genji in months, and his idea of a date was a sparring session. This, and the fact that he was a bit of a lightweight, were the main factors in how it hadn't worked out.  
She smiled to herself. This was more like it.  
She pushed open the door, and was hit by the smell of beer. She made her way to the bar, where the clock said she still had two minutes to herself, to steady her nerves. The bartender smiled at her.  
"Gin and tonic,  _bitte_."  
The barman smiled at the mix of English and German, but Angela couldn't help it. She sipped it gently as the clock swept to 8:30. A had  grabbed her shoulder.  
"You alright darlin'?" the man slurred, and Angela recoiled at the breath that came from him. It was an awful mixture of cheap lager and cheap spirits, with a hint of tobacco. He leaned in...  
...And leaned out again yelping in pain. Moira held his hand, the fingers bent at an unnatural angle. "Was there something you wanted to say?" she said, her nails clawing into the back of the man's hand.   
"S-s-sorry" the man gasped, and shrank away as Moira set herself down at the bar. She ordered a Guinness, and the pair sat in silence for a couple of minutes.  
Angela broke the silence. "Thank you" she said, "I wasn't sure what to do."  
"Oh, they're easy to deal with. It's the ones that need a punch on the nose that make things awkward" chuckled Moira.  
Angela giggled. "Really?"  
"Yeah, they learn soon enough. The judo does get me kicked out of some bars, mind."  
Angela's cheeks went red again.   
"You ever tried Guinness?" asked Moira, setting hers down.   
"Not really, I'm not a beer person."  
"This" - Moira gestured to the glass - "is more than a beer. Go on, have a try."  
Angela took the glass and, pulling a face, took a sip. "It's like coffee" she smiled.  
"You like it? Good. I think we'll have two more of those."  
Angela smiled as the glasses were sat on the bar, and the next, and the next....

Angela woke with a thumping headache. The bed was comfy at least, and someone was....singing?  
"Urgh" she groaned, and slumped back into the pillows.  
"Morning, ya daft tit" spoke an Irish accent, and Angela gather herself together enough to open her eyes to see Moira standing at the foot of the bed, holding a plate. But if Moira was in here, then that would mean....  
"I carried you in" Moira said, "you were completely gone. Don't reckon you've done that in a while."  
"No, no, last time was, last time was..." Angela tried to remember. Was it the Christmas party? It probably was the Christmas party. So she hadn't been properly drunk in about 6 months.  
"I'm out of practice" she smiled feebly, as Moira set the plate down on the bedside table.  
"I can tell" Moira replied, "and trying to drink me under the table was you getting back in?"  
Angela pulled the covers over her head. "How did I get here, and where is my jacket?"  
"In for cleaning. You spilled your drink down it."  
Angela let her head fall back. This was deeply unprofessional, wholly irresponsible, utterly her fault, and yet she didn't care. That was new.  
"I've heard rumors that they're organizing a trip down to the Munich Oktoberfest if you're up for it" Moira called from the kitchen, "I wouldn't ask but I need a translator" she continued as she returned, holding a cup of what Angela could make out was Irish breakfast tea. "You up for it?"  
Angela grinned from the pillows. "Sure" she managed to say, before flopping back down ad going to sleep.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there's only so long I can keep the fluff going. Have nerds being cute, for now.

The Oktoberfest was buzzing. Angela and Moira strolled in, holding hands and wrapped up against the cold. Moira could see Angela's wide smile through her scarf, and smiled. The doctor was really quite an emotional person, and although she was a bit steelier on the outside, Moira had to admit that, for Angela, her heart had simply melted. "What do you do at this sort of thing?" she asked, with a grin.  
"Drinking, games, dancing, mainly drinking though" chuckled Angela, "There's hot chocolate if you want it."  
After taking two steaming mugs from the jolly man running one of the many stalls, they strolled further. The town's mainly German population put on a good show every year, and Angela was never one to miss the Oktoberfest.  She looked over at the carnival games, where a man she recognised as one of the engineering interns was trying to win a teddy bear. "Shall we?"  
For all her pacifist nature, Angela was a good shot. She put Moira to shame as the pellets from the air pistol went through the centre of the target again and again. Moira, to her credit, blamed the results on the cold. Actual snow was falling. Angela laughed as they strolled out of town, bearing the winnings of Doctor Zeigler including, but not limited to, three teddy bears, one giant toblerone, one novelty cuckoo clock, several plushies and untold amounts of sweets.

"What are you going to do with all these?" Moira asked, raising an eyebrow. Her partner was currently sprawled on her bed, claiming tiredness.  
"You can have some if you want" giggled Angela, prompting the other eyebrow to join it's compatriot in the league of reacting to overly adorable Swiss doctors. Mercy  kept giggling, and you could see why. With both eyebrows raised, Moira looked more like a disney villain and even less like the kind of person who would take to plushie animals and teddy bears.   
"I don't think they'd match the wallpaper, my dear" replied Moira, and Angela started giggling even more.   
"Hysterical" said Moira, a grin creeping onto her face. Angela was, all things considered, adorable.  
"What are you doing next weekend?"  
The question spun Moira for six. She'd planned to go shopping, planned to look at the countryside, planned to find a mountain to ride a bike down. And yet this vision in blonde had just emptied her list of plans. Remarkable.  
"Nothing yet, why, need another herd for your room?" she teased, poking a teddy.  
"No. Maybe. It's just I inherited a lodge from  _mami_ , and I've not been there in years. Would you help me set it right?"  
This caught Moira off guard. She had heard that Angela had lost her parents, but she hadn't considered it. Angela's parents had been wealthy, and experienced doctors in their own right, and she'd often made use of their knowledge when training through the textbooks they had written together before they died.   
She did have that trail bike she'd wanted to test though, and she'd spent quite a bit on skis, and...  
She looked back at Angela. Puppy dog eyes looked back at her from the bed.  
"Sure" she replied, smiling back at her. You couldn't win against puppy eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so this chapter's research has made me look like an alcoholic, but one who very much cares about not getting snowed in. Fortunately, Google is a very passive judge of character.

"Wow, this place really has been deserted." Moira's shrewd observation was quite correct. Dust had taken over a lot of the building, and what furniture there was was quite worn, having not been attended to for some years. Angela, meanwhile, was busy checking out what needed doing. "Sofa should be alright, give or take a few stitches. The armchair's probably gone though" she said, pointing to the rather tired looking chair in the corner. "Well, I think it's the time for me to give my contribution, if you'll go back out to the truck." After the pair had wrestled the armchair out the back of the truck, and up the stairs to the lodge, and in the door, and got it into the living room, they were both quite tired. Angela checked over the solar panels, whilst Moira checked the inside electrics for any problems, and the kettle was soon boiling. Irish breakfast tea was soon brewing in two large mugs on the side.   
"I see you've acquired a taste" grinned Moira, as Angela took a big gulp of tea barely 5 seconds after it was poured. She smiled back.   
"Well, it was a recommendation from my doctor, so I guess it's a good thing" she replied, as they returned to the now repaired sofa. Moira lent back on the arm, and Angela lent into her arms. The two of them laid there for a while.  
"I've just had a thought" Angela said after a while. "There's only one bed."  
The pair of the glanced at each other. So far, about 3 informal dates had happened, a figure that Angela didn't really count as a serious relationship. Count the blushes, however, and it might just work.  
Moira raised a perfect eyebrow. "I don't mind if you don't mind"  
"Really?"  
"What happens in a lodge in the middle of nowhere stays in a lodge in the middle of nowhere, unless you want it to. You going to make another drink, or shall we get something to keep the cold out?" asked Moira, sliding a bottle of Irish whiskey from under the sofa. Angela giggled, then pulled a bottle of peach schnapps from under the sofa as well. She got up and fetched two glasses.  
"To sharing beds" Moira grinned, and the glasses clinked. Angela gasped as the whiskey hit. "It's a bit stronger than I was expecting" she remarked, as the glasses were filled with schnapps.  
"That's bloody gorgeous" Moira said, after drinking. The glasses were filled and emptied, and the pair made their way to bed, quite merry.

" _Scheize!"_ "  
Angela looked out the window. Or rather, what window there was to look out of. Snow covered half the window, the grey sky towered overhead and flakes still flew in the air. Moira slowly woke up.  
"Something wrong, love?" she asked dazedly as she wondered in from the bedroom. "Have we not got a shovel?"  
Angela pointed to the handle sticking out of the snow outside. "I suppose we have firewood" she said wryly, having stocked up the night before. "And a functioning DVD player. And a lot of snacks."  
Moira smiled. "Movie marathon?"  
It was a marathon of marathons. Angela and Moira, fueled by blankets, hot chocolate and snacks, watched every movie they could manage. The solar panels on the roof still took in light, so they were able to marathon for a while. Eventually though, the power did run out.   
"Shit" said Moira, trying to turn on the light. The marathon had been good - they'd gotten through Star Wars, the Marvel movies, Harry Potter and even taken a chunk of the Lord of The Rings - but it did look like it'd eaten it's way through more than it's fair share of the power.  
Angela went to the cupboard in the corner, and found candles. They lit a lot of candles, and Moira suddenly understood why the cooker was gas powered.  
"So it's a good old-fashioned candlelit dinner then?" she mused, cooking up a treat. They'd bought fresh ingredients up, Angela refusing to use tinned food and having a love for tartiflette. It was fairly romantic, sitting on the sofa eating tartiflette and grinning whenever someone spilled a bit on themselves.   
"That" said Angela "was amazing."  
The plates were lying on the floor. Angela was lying in Moira's arms, content.  
"Do I get any appreciation?" Moira asked. Angela smiled, and lent up and kissed her.  
Moira raised an eyebrow. "That all I get?"  
Angela lent into the kiss this time, and it was deeper. Moira grinned at her girlfriend.  
"I think" Angela said, "the bed situation is going to suit us just fine."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having thoughts about Moira & Mercy as a domestic couple, and it did seem appropriate given the last chapter. However, will things take a turn for the worse?  
> I'm finally through my Christmas fluff buzz, so this will get more serious now.

"You've got to be kidding me" Moira grinned, looking in her desk drawer, "Angela!"  
"You called?" grinned Angela, glancing round the door and not even vaguely trying to be subtle.  
"Why is my stapler encased in resin?"  
"It is?" Angela replied, feigning innocence. The cheesy grin on her face did give the game away a bit, but you couldn't fault her for trying.  
Moira replied with a grin, walking to the stationary cupboard. Angela, once you got past the sensible doctor persona she put on professionally, was quite the rascal.  
Angela and Moira had requested a joint room as soon as they'd got back from the lodge. They'd moved in with the help of half the medical department; all the personalized furniture that Angela had either made or requested took some moving. Moira also had a surprising amount of stuff, mainly bike or booze related. They'd spent the first day wrapped in blankets on the sofa, having a Star Trek marathon.

A month had passed since that fateful day in the lodge, and Angela and Moira had since gone public with their relationship. The department had been overwhelmed with good feeling ever since, the two heads being very much in love. It had gone from strength to strength, with the new blend of nanomites being even more effective than the last. Overwatch hadn't lost a field operative in months, and it was beginning to look like a record year.  
Angela hummed happily as she made her way to the centrifuge. The new carrier for the nanomites was something she and Moira had been working on for a while. Angela had taken a different approach to this one, looking to the natural world for inspiration instead of established chemical research. Moira had suggested looking at how jellyfish venom as delivered, and it had been an extremely valuable exercise in investigating that particular scientific alleyway.   
Plus, she got to watch Moira when she was excited, and that was something in itself.  
Moira, meanwhile, was busying herself with lab reports. She'd ordered quite a lot of scientific equipment, and answering for that amount of spending took some writing. She got a notification, and frowned. What the hell did that mean?  
"Hey," said a voice from behind her, and Angela leant in the doorway, "want to get coffee?"  
"Sure," replied Moira, and she practically skipped out of her chair. The cryptic email could wait.

"So," began Angela, as she blew the steam off her latte, "good day so far?"  
Moira paused for a second. Should she tell her? It had said not to, and she didn't want to ruin her day.  
"Yeah, alright so far" she smiled back, "wish these reports would write themselves to be honest."  
"Maybe that's our next project" grinned Angela, "are you alright?" You seem a bit off."  
"Just tired, that's all" replied Moira, and that wasn't a lie. The reports, although written at a desk, wore you out through repetition.  
"Well, let's head back and have a rest" said Angela, who was riding on a wave of scientific energy., "I think you could use it."

Moira lay next to Angela, wandering. Who sent that email?  
Who was G? They were clearly not from their department, no one in the medical division was that cryptic. And what the hell was 'advanced research'? Non-standard techniques? If it was a scam, it was a bloody good one.   
And what the ever living fuck was Blackwatch? 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well friends, here's the rub. Enjoy the run downhill from here on in.

Moira held the test tube up to the light. Blackwatch, as it turned out, had more to offer than simple shady espionage - they had access to slightly less orthodox ingredients.   
The nanomites inside the tube glowed yellow. Moira watched them turn in the tube, then put it back in the holder and found what she needed. She had been warned about this stuff - it did have the potential to cause severe harm to whoever was foolish enough to handle it without proper protection. She was wearing everything - lab coat, safety glasses, safety boots, the whole nine yards. G had made sure to explain that, if you were careful enough, there was no need for a hazmat suit. The vial came out the freezer. It glowed unnaturally purple. Moira took a deep breath, took the lid off of the vial, and tipped the contents into the nanomite mixture. 

The test tube glowed purple, and flame spat out of the top. Moira hoped for her sake that the alarms wouldn't go off, as this procedure needed to be uninterrupted. The test tube was placed in a solid transparent container specially commissioned for this purpose. The liquid frothed and boiled, before becoming still. Moira smiled, and removed the test tube. Loading it into the test rig set up in the corner, she pointed it at the receptor. Tests on living tissue were reserved for when the experiment was proven to be safe, after one particular item had stained a volunteer bright orange and had them talking french for an entire week. She pressed the trigger, and the familiar golden glow flowed out of the end, hitting the receptor full frontal. The screens lit up green, showing that the substance was healing as required. It wasn't the leap she'd expected, but it was still progress.   
Moira grew curious. Angela's staff had two functions, that she knew well enough. She hadn't calculated for the boost - usually the additive was added at a later stage in the process - but it was just a receptor test.  
Moira grinned. Curiosity won.  
She pressed the other trigger.  
A deep purple light flew from the emitter, and hit the receptor dead on. The screens lit up red - it was draining away life, sucking out the soul of the target. Moira gasped in amazement, and finally removed her hand from the trigger. This was a game changer.

"I'm afraid I can't sanction this"  
Angela's brow was furrowed as she made her way through the report. Moira stood in front of her, trying to keep her feelings from showing. How could she not approve this! A literal game changing discovery, right on Overwatch's doorstep, and it was going to be quashed.   
"Angela, this would give Overwatch the ultimate power on the battlefield. Think of the lives we could save!"  
Angela looked up at Moira, and Moira saw the face of someone who had seen what the ultimate power could do.  
When Angela spoke, it was quiet and reserved.  
"I made the nanomites to better humanity" she said, "I know what they could do in the wrong hands, so I made sure that they were only used for good. There is a reason I went for the angelic look, Moira, and when I joined Overwatch I swore that I would remain as much of a pacifist as the job allowed. So no, there will be no further tests on this strain. Put it in the vault and put it out of your mind."

 


End file.
